


crushed petals, shattered glass, and other broken things

by FridayFirefly



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Assassin Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Cassandra Cain is a good friend, Ex-Assassin Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Gen, Homelessness, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a Talon, Protective Jason Todd, selectively mute cassandra cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 02:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridayFirefly/pseuds/FridayFirefly
Summary: Seven years of Marinette's childhood, told in snapshots. From the Court of Owls, to the streets of Crime Alley, to Wayne Manor, this is the story of how Marinette found her way home.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Jason Todd
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	crushed petals, shattered glass, and other broken things

Marinette was twelve years old, and she was a knife. Delicate in her looks, deceiving in her appearance, Marinette was the most dangerous weapon in the arsenal of the Court of Owls. She was an assassin. She was a spy. She was clever, cunning, versatile. Most importantly, she was a knife, a sharp tool to be used to inflict violence. It was a role that suited her well. Marinette was training to become the Talon of the Court of Owls, and she was untouchable.

* * *

Marinette was thirteen years old, and she wanted to know how she came to be. Procreation was easy to understand scientifically, but part of Marinette's brain objected to the idea that she had two parents. Marinette was a knife, and knives were forged by hammer and fire, sharpened to a point by tools so that it might become a tool itself. Marinette could not have come from something as _human_ as love. Love has no role in the creation of a knife.

To settle the conflict, Marinette did what she did best - she snooped around, gathered intel, and created the most likely version of events. From what she could tell, her Grandmother, an associate of the Court of Owls but not an actual member, betrayed the Court. As punishment, Marinette was taken away from her family to be raised by the Court. Marinette's surname, kept hidden from her for thirteen years, was Dupain-Cheng.

The very concept of a surname was blasphemous. Marinette had no family. She belonged to the Court of Owls. And yet, sometimes at night, when she was alone in the dark, Marinette mouthed the words, _Marinette Dupain-Cheng._ Something deep within her stirred.

* * *

Marinette was fourteen years old, and she was supposed to kill the whole family. The mother and father, Marinette knew she could kill, but to kill their three children felt inhumane. The youngest wasn't even a year old. Marinette had completed hundreds of missions identical to this one. Sneak in, poison the food, sneak out, wait for the obituary in the newspaper in a day or two. However, this time Marinette couldn't do it. 

Marinette cut the tracking chip out of her neck, crushed it beneath her boot, and disappeared into the shadows of the city. It was entirely unplanned, the only reason that Marinette was able to escape. Marinette didn't know much about life in the outside world, but she knew that it had to be better than the alternative, spending the rest of her life as a tool of the Court of Owls. 

What Marinette didn't know was that the city she was disappearing into had a certain reputation. Soon, as she learned the true nature of Gotham, Marinette would wish that she stayed with the Court.

* * *

Marinette was fifteen years old, and she now knew the true depravity of man. There was so much tragedy on the streets of Gotham. Some of the tragedies Marinette was able to prevent. Knives, after all, are just as good at preventing violence as they are at inflicting it. For other tragedies, Marinette was only able to witness the aftermath. For the victims, she had nothing to give. Knives can only hurt, they cannot heal. 

Marinette loathes Gotham, a hatred that burns through her down to her core. In the Court of Owls, violence was planned. On the streets of Gotham, violence was random. It was so much worse. But a safer city would be more dangerous for Marinette, who needed deep shadows to hide in.

Marinette lived on the streets. She knew that she could pickpocket enough money to rent an apartment. It would be easy, the roughest slums of Gotham, to find someone willing to rent to a child, so long as they had the money. But Marinette's fear and pain had nothing to do with the physical conditions of living on the streets. It was all psychological. The horrors that Marinette had seen haunted her like a ghost.

The worst incident was Hannah, whose death shattered Marinette to her very core. Hannah was only seventeen years old, only two years older than Marinette herself. Marinette didn't know much about the girl, other than that she was on the streets because her boyfriend had threatened to kill her and the police wouldn't do anything until there was physical proof. Except, the way Hannah explained it was that the police wouldn't get involved until she was already dead. Marinette had offered to protect the older girl, but she shooed her away. Hannah told Marinette that she wouldn't let anything happen to herself. She told Marinette that she was tough.

Evidently, Hannah wasn't tough enough for the streets of Gotham. Marinette cried over the body for thirty minutes, cried so hard for so long that she knew she wasn't a knife anymore. Knives would never cry. Knives would cut right back. But Marinette was so sick of violence, so she cried and cried. Eventually, she knocked on the door of a house down the street, asking to borrow a phone to call the police and report a murder. Hannah's body was taken away. The police were ambivalent, they didn't even ask Marinette for a statement. To the police, Hannah was another victim of Gotham and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

This world was so deeply and terribly _bad_ that Marinette didn't know how the rest of the world could survive it. Marinette didn't know if she wanted to survive it.

* * *

Marinette was sixteen years old, and she finally got herself involved in the vigilante side of Gotham. Before Red Hood entered the scene, Crime Alley was a mess of villains and vigilantes, in a constant battle between chaos and order. Marinette never got involved. She had spent many years as a weapon, long enough to learn that a weapon can only harm and can never heal. 

Red Hood toed the line between villain and vigilante. His network of crime was more civilized than any other the other organizations vying for control of Gotham. He kept the streets safe by keeping the most dangerous players in line. Marinette had to admit, he did more good for Crime Alley than Gotham's actual police force.

Still, that didn't mean that Marinette wanted to get involved. She preferred to keep to herself, keep out of the way, and keep in the shadows. It was safer that way.

That November evening when Marinette met Red Hood was cold. The rain that had come in the afternoon had frozen to ice. Marinette shivered as she sat in the alleyway, back against the brick wall, arms wrapped around her knees, hugging herself into a tight little ball. Winter was fast approaching, and Marinette knew that she needed to find better shelter.

Marinette hadn't been quick enough. Marinette should have fled the alley as soon as she saw the three brutish men start walking down it, but she was so cold she wasn't sure if she would be able to get her feet to move. By the time Marinette had gotten her feet under her to stand up, the three men were surrounding her.

The man in the middle leered at her. "You look cold. Why don't you come with us? We'll keep you warm." 

There wasn't a trace of a question in his voice. It was a command. However, Marinette knew what happened to the girls who took up the offer, so she vigorously shook her head. She would rather freeze to death than join him in his bed.

"That wasn't a question," he growled, reaching down to grab her and pull her to her feet.

"I wouldn't touch her if I were you," an unfamiliar voice piped up from farther down the alley. "I just might have to remove your hand if you do."

"Red Hood! I was just helping the girl to her feet. I swear I wasn't going to do anything to her." The man sounded terrified, and for good reason. The punishment that Red Hood chose for rapists was well known for its brutality.

"You should leave," snapped Red Hood. The men hurried out of the alleyway, running without looking back. Marinette watched them go, relief rushing through her.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Red Hood asked, offering Marinette a hand to help her to her feet.

Marinette shook her head, squeezing herself into a tighter ball.

"I can take you to the nearest homeless shelter or I can take you to the nearest of my safehouses until I set you up in something permanent."

"I'm fine here," mumbled Marinette. It was the first time she had spoken in weeks. Her own voice sounded foreign to her.

Red Hood scoffed. "You'll freeze to death out here. It's either a homeless shelter or a safehouse. I don't leave girls out on the streets. Not in Gotham. Not in Crime Alley."

Marinette shivered, feeling more than miserable. It was obvious that she wasn't going to be able to convince Red Hood to leave her. A homeless shelter might need identification, which Marinette didn't have. Going to his safehouse was her best bet. "Safehouse."

Red Hood pulled Marinette to her feet. "Alright, safehouse it is. Mind telling me your name?"

"Marinette." 

"No last name?" 

Marinette shook her head. She hadn't earned a surname yet.

Red Hood took her back to the safehouse and got her settled, bringing over groceries every week as he tried to tempt her into giving him more information about herself. Marinette was reticent to tell him about her past. She doubted that he would still trust her enough to leave her alone if he learned that she used to work as an assassin.

However, Marinette couldn't keep that secret for very long. Two months after meeting Red Hood, as she waited in the kitchen for him to arrive with his weekly delivery of groceries, Marinette was caught off guard as a dark figure burst through the door and attacked her. Marinette didn't want to fight the dark-haired girl, but to be honest she couldn't see any other option, considering the other girl attacked first. The girl was skilled and Marinette was out of practice, after two years away from the Court. The best she could do was hold the other girl off while she tried to figure out an escape plan.

Red Hood came in the front door, which was already ajar from the entrance of the other girl. "Black Bat, stop! Marinette is my guest here," shouted Red Hood over the commotion of the fight.

Black Bat ceased her offensive, falling back into a defensive crouch. She pointed one finger at Marinette and accused, "Talon."

Marinette cringed back. "Not anymore. Never, ever again."

Red Hood stared at Marinette in shock. "You were an assassin?"

Marinette nodded miserably, wishing she could be anywhere else. She should have escaped the safehouse when she had the chance, but her stupid brain decided that Red Hood's safehouse would be a good place as any to spend the winter months.

"Cass? Jason? Why was the door left open...?" The civilian man who walked through the open door stared at the scene in front of him in confusion.

"Aliases, Grayson!" exclaimed Red Hood, or, Jason as he had just been named. Jason took off his mask, casting it aside as he ran his hand through his hair with a groan. "Black Bat, you take Marinette back to the bedroom and help her put bruise cream on wherever you managed to hit her. Grayson, you're coming with me back to the cave so we can explain this situation to _you-know-who._ " Jason almost reached the door before he let out a loud swear " _Fuck!_ I _cannot_ believe that I have to be the responsible one here."

As Jason and his friend left the safehouse, Marinette followed Black Bat - Cass - down the hallway to the bedroom. "Sit," ordered Cass, pointing towards the bed as she starting digging through the bathroom cabinet, looking for bruise cream.

Marinette stripped off her shirt so that Cass could get to the bruises. The only significant hit was a kick to the chest that knocked the breath out of Marinette. It was already turning yellow. Marinette poked it and grimaced at the twinge of pain that followed. 

"Don't worry," said Cass as she started to rub the medicine onto Marinette's chest. "Jason will keep you safe."

Cass wasn't lying. Whatever Jason said or did in the hours that he was gone that day, it worked. Two days later, Marinette was moving into Wayne Manor.

Jason explained it all to her on the drive over. "Bruce - Batman - doesn't want an ex-assassin living on the streets in Crime Alley, especially not one in possession of compromising information about our identities. Given that you've already taken the first step towards reformation, Bruce is pretty confident that you're safe to live in the house. He'll help you get back on your feet, get you a new identity, an education, or anything you need."

Marinette froze for a moment, then wrapped Jason up in a hug. It was her first hug and it was better than she expected. "Thank you."

* * *

Marinette was seventeen years old, and she finally had a family. The Wayne household was a chaotic place. Marinette used to think that she hated chaos, but she could now see the appeal. Coffee at midnight with Tim, practicing acrobatics with Dick, racing motorcycles with Jason, rescuing farm animals with Damian - none of it was normal, and because of that, Marinette loved it. However, when things got overwhelming and Marinette needed a break from the chaos, she always knew where to go. 

Cass was one of the only quiet Waynes (the other being Alfred). In fact, she barely spoke at all. Marinette had learned that she and Cass had quite a few similarities in the nature of their childhoods. They were both taken from at least one of their parents, both raised to be assassins from a young age, both were isolated from the rest of society. Where they differed was the particulars of their education. Cass was raised without language, and she only learned how to speak after she escaped from her father's grasp.

One night, after a patrol that led to Marinette stumbling upon a body that reminded her of Hannah from all those years ago, Marinette walked through the halls of the Manor to Cass's bedroom. All anyone wanted was for Marinette to talk about it. Cass was the only person who wouldn't make that demand of Marinette.

Marinette knocked on the door, two quiet little knocks. Cass cracked open the door, then gestured for Marinette to come inside. Marinette settled down on the couch in the corner, trying to pick out the questions that she wanted to ask Cass. There were so many questions, but Marinette knew that only a few of them were worth asking. They sat in silence for a while, Marinette so lost in thought that she almost forgot that Cass was there, too. Finally, Marinette settled on the question. "Do you ever wish that you could change the past?" 

Cass was silent, deep in thought for a few moments before she shook her head. "No."

"Not even if it meant that you could have had a normal childhood?"

"I had a hard childhood," Cass acknowledged. "I like where I ended up. I wouldn't be here without my childhood."

Marinette had one last question to ask. "If you're able to speak now, why do you barely talk."

"I learned to speak," agreed Cass, going silent for a moment before continuing. "I have become proficient at using words to deliver information but I lack the skill to converse with others. I find it difficult to use any more words than necessary. For that reason, people do not like talking to me. I do not talk to those who do not want to talk to me."

"I like talking to you," said Marinette, squeezing Cass's hand. "I can talk enough for the both of us. You don't mind my talking, do you?"

Cass shook her head. "I find your words tolerable. Sometimes even pleasant."

It was a high compliment from Cass. Marinette smiled. "May I hug you?"

Cass nodded, and Marinette wrapped her dearest friend up in a hug.

* * *

Marinette was eighteen years old, and it was time for her to create a new identity for herself.

"Do you want a surname?" asked Bruce.

Marinette stared at the screen. There were three options in front of here. The first, to remain nameless. The second, to take on the name she was born with, _Dupain-Cheng_ in remembrance of her parents and the childhood she never got to have. The third, to move on entirely from her past and embrace the future. " _Wayne._ Marinette Wayne."

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bit of a mishap with the mass tag editor, so if you've noticed that some of my fics have no tags now, that's why. I'm trying to get that fixed asap but it might take a while.


End file.
